Fool Me Once
by Vampiyaa
Summary: On several April Fools Days across the universe, the Doctor and Rose try to one-up each other, but not with pranks. Ten/Rose Who Holidays April Fools!smutfic.


**Beta: natural-blues**

* * *

Fool Me Once

The way it all started was ridiculous, really.

It was on April 1 that the TARDIS took them to Anjou, France, in the Fontevraud Abbey in the year 1204. Upon heading into the Abbey, a pair of guards stopped them. "State your intentions."

"Hello there, I'm the Doctor and this is Rose," said the Doctor jovially, beaming at the two of them. "We're here to see the King."

"Show us your credentials."

The Doctor happily took out the psychic paper and handed it to the right guard, whose eyes widened. "It says here you're court physician John Smith and his apprentice, Rose Tyler."

"Does it?" asked the Doctor airily.

"You must be here to examine Her Ladyship," he said, beckoning them into the Abbey. "Come with me."

They left the other guard behind and followed the first guard down a stone hallway adorned with religious tapestries. Eventually he led them towards a lavishly dressed man with a jewelled crown on his head, who looked pale and depressed. The guard bowed and the Doctor motioned for Rose to emulate him, which they both did.

"Your Majesty," said the guard, "this is the court physician and his apprentice."

The King nodded, dismissing the guard with a wave of his hand before addressing the Doctor. "You are here to perform the autopsy?" Rose's stomach churned but the Doctor nodded. "My mother is in there," the King added, pointing to an oak door to his left. "Report to me when you are done."

"Yes, Your Majesty," said the Doctor, before grabbing Rose's hand and leading her into a bedroom.

Rose flinched at the sight of the grey-skinned old woman lying in her bed, eyes opened and staring lifelessly at the ceiling, but tried not to look as nauseous as she felt— she was supposed to be a physician's apprentice, after all. The Doctor sensed her unease, however, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "This was Eleanor of Aquitaine, the King's mother."

"Why'd the TARDIS take us here?" Rose asked.

"I dunno." The Doctor sonicked the woman before covering her with a sheet and turning to look at her darkly. "She was poisoned."

"With what?" Rose asked, still steadily trying not to look at the body (it was bringing up Gelth-related memories).

"An excess of belladonna," the Doctor muttered.

"Should we tell King John?"

The Doctor looked at her sharply. "No. It says historically that Eleanor of Aquitaine died of natural causes. We're sticking to that story."

Despite knowing they had to lie to maintain timelines (she'd learned that lesson the hard way) Rose still scowled. "So her murderer just goes on walkin' then?"

"'Course not, we're gonna find them," the Doctor said, giving her a look of disbelief. "We're just not gonna tell King John what we're doing."

Rose put on her best 'the Doctor is right' face when they proceeded to tell King John that his mother died in her sleep of old age. This seemed to console the King somehow, who thanked them for their help and dismissed them. Instead of leaving, Rose and the Doctor waited until the servants had carried Eleanor of Aquitaine's body out of the room before going back in to search it.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Rose mumbled as she checked under the bed, keeping her voice low so anybody on the other end of the door wouldn't hear her.

"Some clue as to who was in here other than Eleanor," the Doctor said, sticking his face into an expensive-looking vase.

Rose giggled at him and opened her mouth to tell him that she was pretty certain the killer hadn't dropped anything into the vase, but the sound of footsteps coming towards the door sounded in the hall and her voice got stuck in her throat. The two of them froze, staring in horror at each other. An idea popped into her head, and she sprinted over to the pale-looking Doctor, seating him down on a hand-carved chair and straddling his lap. His face went pink and he hissed, "Rose, what are you—?"

"Just play along," she whispered back, ripping open her shirt to expose her bra-covered breasts (she was glad she wore the black lace one) and ripping his Oxford open too.

If his eyes had gotten any wider they would have popped out of his skull. She tried not to show how embarrassed she was — or how much this was sort of turning her on — and ducked her head to nip at his neck whilst simultaneously rocking her hips against him and scraping her nails up his bare back. Heat seared through her when he whimpered, encouraging him to grip her hips and guide her onto his (oh fuck) quickly hardening erection. At once the door opened, revealing a black-haired maid, who thankfully didn't shriek but gasped when she saw them. Rose pretended to be horrified, clutching her hands to her exposed chest and gaping at the maid. The maid ducked her head and muttered an embarrassed, "Please forgive me," before hurrying away.

Sliding herself off of his lap and trying to act normally, Rose breathed, "Hope that means she's not gonna tell the King and have us executed or something."

The dazed, gaping Doctor shut his mouth with a click and hopped off the seat, face burning red as he redid the buttons on his shirt. "From her reaction, I'm pretty certain she won't," he said swiftly. "Come on, let's keep looking."

Just as she'd expected, he'd brushed off what'd happened and pretended like he hadn't just gotten an erection when she'd ground on him to stop from being caught. She was concurrently grateful and a bit disappointed, but shoved it aside too and continued looking for clues.

The answer eventually came to them when King John suddenly started to shout, and the Doctor and Rose ran to his chambers to find a glaring seventeen-year-old boy being arrested by guards, a bag full of some kind of green plant spilling from his pockets, which she could bet ten quid was belladonna. Rose tried to help him, but the Doctor grabbed her shoulder to stop her from intercepting and led her out of the Abbey.

"He's Arthur I, former Duke of Brittany," the Doctor explained grimly. "Eleanor of Aquitaine's grandson."

"Her _grandson_ poisoned her?" Rose exclaimed. "How come?"

"Arthur tried to take the throne a couple of years back, but John had him arrested and sent to prison. Eleanor supported John." The Doctor frowned contemplatively. "According to your history books, Arthur vanished from prison in April last year. Looks like we know what he was doing."

"So, if he disappears, then what's happening to him now?" Rose asked.

He smiled a bit sadly at her. "Always asking the right questions, you." She flushed and he explained, "Arthur's murdered body will be found by a fisherman in a couple of weeks."

"The King has him killed?!" Rose hissed, and the Doctor grimaced and nodded. "I don't like the King anymore."

"Arthur did betray him," the Doctor pointed out, as they approached the TARDIS. "And then poisoned his mother, although John'll never know it."

"They're both stupid, then," Rose muttered, entering the TARDIS and heading out of the console room as the Doctor piloted them into the Vortex. "Want a cuppa?"

"Ta, Rose," he said distractedly, busy with twiddling some dial shaped like a hammer.

Rose headed into the kitchen and took out the mugs before the realisation of exactly what had just happened hit her. She had to cover her burning face in her hands to stop from panicking— she had just literally ripped open both of their shirts and ground against him. Granted, it was to stop them from being caught without an explanation in the King's recently deceased mother's room, but the worst (or perhaps best) part of it was that the Doctor had been turned on by it too. She hadn't even been sure if he had normal… bits. She half expected him to pop his head into the kitchen, grin and shout out, "April Fools!" The fact that it had been the first of April where they'd just been didn't pass her by. Rose bit her lip and tried to push it out of her mind like the Doctor would, before giving up— oh, who the hell was she kidding anyway? This was going to fuel a hell of a lot of fantasies in the future.

Rose flicked on the kettle and started to head to the refrigerator to get out the milk, but somebody grabbed her outstretched wrist and her other limp one and pinned her to the wall with their hips— hips she was pretty certain she had just straddled less than half an hour ago. This was confirmed when she spotted the hands gripping her wrists— pinstriped-suited, and as once proclaimed, manly, hairy hands. Then all she saw were stars when what was definitely the Doctor's mouth latched onto a spot just below her ear and sucked gently, making a shiver ripple through her. Apparently convinced that she wasn't going to move, his hands left her wrists and travelled downward, one gripping her hip, the other slipping up her shirt and splaying onto her belly, fingers tracing tiny circles just above the waistband of her jeans.

His nose kept nudging her ear and the tiny whimpers she was making turned into full-blown moans, something he apparently approved of from the way his hips rocked into her bum. She let out the loudest moan yet— he was hard again. _Fuck. _She pushed her bum out and he groaned against her throat, and forget him being hard being a huge turn on— she was pretty sure that sound was going to kill her if she ever heard it again. She was positive she was going to have a mark where his teeth kept scraping at, and his fingers kept barely dipping into her jeans.

Then, just as quickly as it'd started, it stopped. His hands left her and his tongue gave her neck one final lave before he pulled back entirely. A raggedly breathing mess against the wall, Rose lowered one hand to her neck where the mark was and turned around. He had the gall to look pleased with himself, both hands in his pockets and his grinning lips a bit red from sucking her neck. Flushing, she asked shakily, "Wh-what was that, then?"

"Payback, Rose Tyler," he said, voice dark and sultry, practically caressing her name.

She regarded him through narrowed eyes, looking for any signs of repartee and finding none. Raising an eyebrow and doing her best to keep the excited smile from growing on her face, she said airily, "Well, you do realise… this means war."

The Doctor's eyes flashed with what she now knew was lust. "You wouldn't," he said lowly, although he looked thrilled at the very idea.

"Just wait," Rose replied airily, 'accidentally' brushing her hand over his leg when she strode past him to busy herself with the teakettle. Ten minutes later they were back into their normal, flirty banter, with no mentioning of the war they'd just started.

* * *

She waited a week— just one week. It was sufficient time for the shiny purple bruise on her neck to fade, and for the Doctor to stop sending her heated and hopeful looks, as though expecting her to jump him at any moment. Rose felt guilty every time he looked slightly disappointed, but she assured herself that she'd get him back somehow, come the opportunity. Let him think it was over for now— it'd make it so much more fun when he realised it wasn't over. Far from it.

It was probably just a coincidence, but the TARDIS landed them on the human-colonised planet of New Leadworth during an April Fool's festival. The Doctor got excited, saying that this was their chance to enjoy themselves instead of running for their lives, and told her to change into something fancy. Usually Rose would head to the wardrobe room, pick a dress and ask the TARDIS's opinion on it, but tonight the TARDIS had materialised a gown right onto her bed and Rose found it after she got out of the shower. She had to admit— the TARDIS had _fantastic _taste in dresses. It was a scarlet, floor length strapless ball gown with a ruffled diagonal waist and silver embroidery on the bodice. Rose squealed at it and thanked the TARDIS over and over, who hummed almost bashfully, before donning it and putting on her makeup.

"Rose?" the Doctor called out, when he heard her footsteps approaching. "Are you ready to— _guh_," came out of him mouth, jaw dropping to the floor when she entered, perfectly coiffed and simply _gorgeous. _

Rose blushed pink but kept her cool and grinned with her tongue poking out at the corner of her mouth. "Pretty sure 'guh' isn't in the dictionary, Doctor."

He actually shook his head to clear it before drawing himself up and holding out his arm for her to accept. "It's actually a verb and an adjective in several languages, I'll have you know."

The night turned out to be spectacular. They ate and talked and laughed at the pranks people pulled on each other. Everything was going just as it normally would, until the Doctor swanned off to find a banana daiquiri and Rose was left alone to be swept onto the dance floor by a handsome looking bloke who introduced himself as Dominic. They spent twenty minutes talking as though they'd been friends their whole lives…

… until an irritated-looking Doctor stepped in, wearing his Oncoming Storm face. "Excuse me."

Though he'd been initially cowering, Dominic frowned with confusion. "Excuse you for what?"

"This," the Doctor replied, before half-shoving the other bloke out of the way, sweeping Rose into his arms and promptly dancing away with her.

Though she was kind of flattered as his obvious possessiveness, Rose glared at him. "_That_ was rude."

"Was not," he shot back, looking immensely pleased with himself as they waltzed through the throng. "I excused myself."

She swatted his shoulder. "That isn't a justification."

He stuck his tongue out at her. _Real mature. _Her alien friend was nine hundred, going on seven. "The synonym of 'justification' is 'excuse', which is in the word _'excused'_."

"That's just word play, an' you know it," said Rose crossly.

She wanted to wipe that superior smirk straight off his face. "What do you know about word play, Rose Tyler?"

And lo and behold, his question opened up the window of opportunity she'd been searching for.

Inspiration hit her like a ton of bricks, and she forced back the simultaneous feeling of excitement and terror. Leaning up as they danced, she murmured in his ear, "I know a lot about word play." He shuddered but tried to repress it. "In fact, there are lots of things I'd like to tell you, Doctor." She smiled seductively, since clearly he hadn't yet grasped that this was her revenge, and she watched as the realisation dawned on him— his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and she smirked. All but pressing her lips to his ear now, she whispered so nobody else could hear, "Wanna touch your cock."

His reaction was immediate— his whole body shuddered violently and his exhale hit her neck. "Rose…"

"I'd close my fist 'round it," she muttered, half-thrilled, half-terrified at how far she was taking this. "Slide it up to the head, an' then I'd squeeze right there." His grip on her lower back tightened, pressing her into the subject of topic, which was hardening against her abdomen. "Then I'd slide down to the base and back up again." His breath hit her neck in staccato, making noises like pants only with a whine at the end of each one. Rose had another idea and tried to suppress the evil grin that threatened to come out. "Wanna suck you off."

The Doctor rutted against her, hips jerking forward, nearly knocking them both off balance. He caught himself on her shoulders. "_Fuck,_ Rose."

Heat tore through her at the sound of the Doctor cursing, so out of control because of her. "Want to wrap my tongue around your cock. Make you come in my throat. Would you like that, Doctor?"

"God yes," he moaned.

The desperate, wanting sound of his confirmation made a whimper fly unbidden from her mouth, but she forced it down and continued. "Good. 'Cos I want to. Want you in my mouth. Wanna watch you fall apart 'cos of me. Bet you'd be gorgeous." He whined, grip tightening on her and pressing her harder into his erection. They were barely dancing any more, just shifting from side to side and rocking their hips into each other. "All flushed an' sweaty, mouth open a bit, eyes wide open. Watching me suck you."

Just as he let loose another helpless moan, Rose pulled back and smirked. Spotting a chip stand, she 'ooh-ed' and beamed up at him, ignoring the flare of heat in her abdomen at the sight of him, eyes half-lidded and mouth hanging ajar. "Look, there are chips! Let's go get some!"

He stammered out, "Wh-what—?" but she ignored him, grabbed his hand and bounced energetically towards the chip stand.

When they got back to the TARDIS, he practically fled her presence and disappeared into the bowels of the ship. She initially panicked, thinking maybe she'd taken it too far, until the TARDIS gave her a reassuring hum. Then all she could think about was him running off to have a wank. Shuddering at her own thoughts, Rose headed to her room with a triumphant smirk on her face, wondering just how the Doctor was going to up the ante. She could hardly wait. Stripping off her gown and thanking the TARDIS, she headed into the loo and hopped into the shower.

Sufficed to say, it was a very satisfying shower.

* * *

He didn't make her wait as long as she did, probably because the opportunity to strike back arrived by itself. Three days of flirty banter and pretending like she hadn't seriously turned on the Doctor in the middle of the dance floor with graphic descriptions of what exactly she wanted to do to him, the TARDIS landed on Epsilon IV, on the first of April (was this the TARDIS's idea of a joke?) and it just so happened to be one of those days.

One of those days where Rose was separated from the Doctor and arrested for what she was wearing— in this case, wearing pink on Thursday when it was expressly forbidden. It wasn't even that much pink— just a fuchsia stripe around the waist of her sundress.

To her immense annoyance, they dragged her down into a series of underground tunnels and then threw her into a metallic holding cell. As far as holding cells went, it wasn't half bad— at least it was clean, unlike some Rose had once been kept in. They chained both of her wrists with glowing blue handcuffs to a ring on the wall, forcing her to stay standing, and she scowled at the guard as he sauntered off, leaving her trapped behind a pink force field (which she honestly found was kind of hypocritical).

It didn't take long for the Doctor to find out she was missing and track her down. She let out a happy noise when she saw him and he sonicked the force field into submission before stepping into the cell. But, just as he leaned over her to unlock the handcuffs, he suddenly paused, looking down at her with contemplation.

Then a filthy grin spilled onto his face and all Rose could do was think, _Oh, fuck. _

"You know, Rose, you look very nice all chained up like that," he said almost conversationally. "Submissive. I like it."

She scowled at him and opened her mouth to tell him that she did _not _like it — far from it — but he silenced her by diving down and capturing her lips and all she could think was _finally. _He was just about as desperate as she was, fisting his hand in her hair and angling her head, slipping his tongue into her mouth and crushing it to hers. The sound of the sonic screwdriver dropping to the floor barely gave her any warning before the Doctor's hands travelled, one slipping onto her bum and the other lifting her leg and placing it on his hip, urging her to do the same with the other. She complied so that she had her legs wrapped around his waist, perched up on the wall and held there by his hand and hips. Rose wished he'd undo the handcuffs so she could run her hands through his hair.

It became clear to her why he didn't when the hand on her leg made its way underneath her dress, tracing a path upward until it reached her inner thigh. She gasped into his mouth when he peeled her knickers down to her knees with a flick of his fingers and trailed his index finger up her slit. She grew slick in an instant, hips bucking in search of more and a whimper escaping her throat. He chuckled darkly, mouth leaving hers to trail kisses down her neck.

"Like that, do you?" he murmured against her jugular, before pushing two fingers into her halfway. "What about that?"

Rose answered him by moaning and pushing her hips up so that his fingers slid in all the way, prompting him to start pumping them into her. She could feel him smirking against her neck but couldn't bring herself to care when she usually would, not while he was making her insides burn like this. He pistoned his digits into her, occasionally adding his thumb into the mix and rubbing her clit, until she was a quivering mess against him.

"Think about doing this a lot, Rose," he said, in an almost conversational manner punctuated only by the slight breathlessness in his tone and the minor rocking of his hips against hers. "At stupid times, too. Thought about doing this when we were lying in the applegrass." She kicked back her head at the admittance, ignoring the bump she'd probably have tomorrow— she'd been thinking the same thing that day. "Before that, when I was stodgy old leather me, thought about it when we were in the hospital basement waiting for Harkness to transmat us out. Made it worse when you asked me to dance— had to make an excuse." He snorted. "'Resonating concrete', _honestly_." Rose would have laughed, if she weren't so precariously close to falling over the edge. He'd wanted her all the way back then? "And before that, I thought about doin' it when you waltzed in wearing that dress, just before we met Charles Dickens. You were gorgeous in that thing. Made my brain short-circuit, and I'm brilliant!" Her eyes rolled, but not from his vocal bout of egocentrism. He noticed this and sped up the motions of his hand. "Are you close, Rose?"

"Yes!" she cried, and he shuddered a little.

"How close?" he growled— actually_ growled. _

Rose couldn't answer; any second now she was going to tumble over the edge, unable to do anything but moan. She slammed her eyes shut, anticipating the fall, but he suddenly removed his hand before she could reach her climax, sticking his fingers into his mouth and licking her juices off his hand. Her eyes flew open as she panted, searching his for an explanation, only to get an eyeful of the same evil grin as before. Wordlessly he lowered her legs back onto the floor, smirking when they almost gave out, and leaned down and picked up his sonic to unlock her handcuffs.

He examined her wrists closely. "No chafing. Good. Let's leave."

"I'm gonna murder you," she told him, still breathing heavily as she simultaneously replaced her knickers and glared at him. He simply beamed at her, grabbed her hand and bounced out of the holding cell with her.

* * *

Rose didn't plan on waiting too long to have her revenge, which was why it was fantastic that the opportunity came the next day.

The TARDIS landed them on April 1 on Eden III, a military base. As the Doctor cheerfully explained, Eden III was the third planet in the Eden system, Eden Prime being a resort planet and Eden II being a trade settlement for mostly non-human species. Rose wasn't pleased that the TARDIS had chosen the military base over the resort planet, especially when relations with the soldiers there quickly soured and they were running through the base in search for a place to hide in no time.

Spotting a large weapons locker in the room to her right, Rose tugged on the Doctor's hand and said, "In here," before opening the locker. Thankfully it was just large enough for two and was devoid of any weapons at the moment, so Rose and the Doctor were able to clamber in and close it behind them without any problems. He stood with his back to the locker's side and she with her back pressed against his front, and both kept still as the thundering footsteps of the soldiers bent on arresting them grew louder.

"Where the hell'd they go?" swore a Scottish accent from the hallway.

The answering chatters of the other men were all the same thing: "No idea, sir."

"Split up an' look," said the Scotsman, and the soldiers obediently trumped off in different directions, their footsteps quickly fading.

Rose whooshed out a sigh of relief and leaned her back against the Doctor, frowning when he tensed up. Then she realised her bum was pressing in a place that practically screamed 'payback'. With a triumphant smirk, Rose placed both hands on the wall of the locker and ground her bum against him. A groan slipped from his lips, followed by a sound that suggested he'd just clapped a hand over his mouth to silence himself. She felt him grow hard immediately and his hand gripped her hips, guiding her against his erection. Rose rubbed her arse against it, hearing him whimper softly and feeling him buck into her with increasing desperation. Eventually his other hand left his mouth and drifted down to grip her other hip, pressing her firmer into his hardness, gaining more friction.

Rose had no idea how long they spent simply grinding against each other— all she knew was that the Doctor's suppressed whimpers were turning into soft moans and that she desperately wanted to turn around and shag him in the weapons locker, no matter which bloke with a gun was on the other side. With one last particularly hard grind that had the Doctor's eyes rolling back into his head, she said thickly, "Truce?"

He groaned out, "Fuck, yes."

There was hurried fumbling as the Doctor took his hands off of her hips to yank off his suit jacket and Oxford and attack his trousers zip and Rose's own hands left the wall to pull off her vest top and tug her jeans open. She barely had enough time to do anything else before the Doctor yanked her jeans down to her thighs, taking her soaked knickers with it. She felt the tip of him press against her dripping sex; he stilled there, as if giving her an out, and when she pushed her bum out and caused the tip of him to slip inside her, he let out something akin to a sob and slid into her with frenzy.

He didn't wait for her to adjust or anything, just started pounding into her immediately with wild desperation, practically keening with every thrust. She met him every time, using the wall as leverage to push out every time he pushed forward, and forget that they were trying to hide so as not to be captured— she was moaning like a tart and he was even louder. Rose turned around to watch him, only to see that his eyes were fixed on where his cock kept plunging between the soft orbs of her bum, and the look of fascination mixed with dazed pleasure had to be the sexiest expression Rose had ever seen him make. Heat seared through her, making her jerk her head back, buck against him and moan, which he echoed. His hands left her hips, one slipping under her bra and tugging at her nipple, the other reaching underneath where his cock kept slamming into and rubbing her clit.

He was whispering something incoherently against her shoulder, making Rose force down her moans to hear him, only to whimper uncontrollably when she discovered it was her name he was murmuring over and over again, like it was a lifeline and he was sinking. Three years of dancing around each other and almost two weeks of sexually torturing one another ensured that this wasn't going to last longer than it already had, so when the Doctor stopped his chanting to hiss out, "Rose, I'm gonna—" she was already tumbling over the edge with a keening cry. He followed her with a shout of, "Oh, _Rose_!" tensing up and spilling himself inside her. They both sank to the floor, him wrapping his arms around her and panting into her neck, her with her hands still on the wall.

Then they froze like deer caught in headlights when running footsteps stopped outside the room they were in.

"I think I heard somethin' from in here, sir!" shouted a soldier, his footsteps approaching the locker.

The Doctor, with his slowly softening cock still inside her, stuck his hand into his pocket, yanked out the sonic and pointed it hurriedly at the door of the locker, locking it just in time. The soldier on the other side gripped the handle and tried to pull it open, unable to.

"It's locked," said the Scotsman from before with a snort.

"I heard something in there," defended the soldier.

"You idiot. It's locked from the outside. D'you reckon the two of 'em unlocked it — without a key, which only I have — got in and then locked it again?"

The soldier mumbled something inaudible, and the Scotsman let out another snort before the two of them left the room. The Doctor and Rose glanced at each other before collapsing into almost silent laughter.

After unlocking the locker, yanking their trousers up and stepping out, the two of them slipped out of the base and ran back to the TARDIS, stealing snogs every once in a while, both of them not bothering to put back on their shirts.

* * *

**A/N: Fifth in the Who Holidays series :) Unfortunately, since there aren't really any holidays during the summer, the next story won't be until Thanksgiving. Hope you all enjoyed this giant lemon; please review! Link to Rose's dress is in my profile, if anybody wants a visual. This fic idea is inspired by Marie Chambers' 'Taking Turns'.  
**

**PS the events centred around Eleanor of Aquitaine, King John and Arthur I actually happened :p well, yknow, minus the poisoning part— that I made up for the Doctor and Rose's sake :3 **


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